"Ta. I'll do me best," he says, laying out all his anti-posh glory a bit thick. It's fun, because they're a bit opposite as far as the spectrum goes, but John doesn't think for a second that it's any sort of problem. He gets the impression, from the half-subtle touches, that neither does Q.
He sets his beer back down, and fails at being subtle at all, because it's rarely his style. "I'm going to kiss you now." It's been on his mind for a while, after all.